


Everywhere

by samwhambam



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/F, everyone else is on the side, stevie and twyla are the main pairing and the main characters, stevie and twyla slowly fall in love over the rehearsals for cabaret, stevie has a hard time accepting that she feels this way for twyla, there is a game night involved, there is wine drinking, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/pseuds/samwhambam
Summary: Stevie oh so slowly and softly, develops feelings for Twyla while they're getting ready for Cabaret.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands
Comments: 26
Kudos: 79





	Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello please enjoy this. 
> 
> thank you to doublel27 who beta-d this for me, it's a shiny rock now bc of you, instead of a muddy one. 
> 
> title from everywhere by fleetwood mac

Stevie was the last person to leave rehearsal. It was the first one for Cabaret, a kit kat girl soiree as Mrs. Rose had called it. She had spent the entire time feeling completely uncomfortable. The regrets had piled up, and the end of rehearsal had only made her feel a little better. Alexis had helped a bit by giving her little bits of motivational pep talks, not much. But a little bit. 

Stevie pulled her phone out of her bag, hoping for a text, or any sort of notification to lift up her spirits. But there was nothing. She swung her bag onto her shoulder, and decided on stopping by Rose Apothecary to see what was going on, to maybe terrorize David for a bit, see how Patrick felt going into Cabaret. She pulled her hair out from under the strap when she heard her name being called. 

She turned, coming to face Twyla who had her own bag hanging from her shoulder. Stevie nodded in acknowledgement as Twyla stopped in front of her. 

“Heading home?” Twyla asked. 

“Uh,” Stevie tilted her head. She was overwhelmed by the rehearsal and now with the whole force of Twyla’s usual optimism focused towards her, Stevie was  _ tired.  _ “I was going to swing by the Apothecary.”

She swung a leg out, taking a step towards the door and Twyla followed her. 

“Wanna walk together?” Twyla asked. Stevie wanted to point out that they were already walking together, but she bit her tongue. Stevie couldn’t remember when they had first met, but she knew it was early grade school. They barely knew each other, but there was no point in burning the bridge before rehearsals actually started. 

“Sure,” Stevie ducked her head, matching Twyla’s stride. 

“You did really well today,” Twyla said. Stevie could feel her looking at her and when she looked, Twyla was smiling that smile that Stevie was convinced never left her face. 

Stevie snorted and shook her head. “You saw me. We were both there. There’s no need to lie to me.”

“I saw you trying. It’s not easy to do something new,” Twyla said. She was nodding gently and she nudged Stevie’s elbow with her own. “You survived and you did well, all things considered.”

They had stopped walking and Stevie kicked at a rock. Twyla was being sincere and Stevie didn’t know how to take it. 

“It’s a little too soon to say I survived,” Stevie laughed. “I read the script. I think it’s only going to go downhill from here.”

“Well, if you’re at the bottom, there’s only one way to go! The first rehearsal is always the hardest,” Twyla shrugged and continued walking. Stevie wrinkled her nose at the way Twyla’s voice was horrifyingly optimistic. “But you know, you survived today, that means you can probably survive the next rehearsal. The school counselor used to tell me that whenever I would talk to her about my mom’s mentally abusive boyfriend. It actually helped to think about stuff one day at a time.”

Stevie was silent, half wishing that Twyla hadn’t unloaded that on her, the other half grateful for the advice. She had already said yes to the part, rehearsals had started and she saw Mrs. Rose too often to back out of it without having repercussions. 

“Thanks, Twyla,” Stevie said, unsure of how to end the conversation, but aware of polite protocol. 

They kept walking and when they approached the rock that had settled, Twyla kicked it. It skirted along the pavement, making a large curve and when they passed it, it was too far for either of them to kick again. 

*

“It’s not fair how quickly she’s picking everything up,” Patrick said as he handed Stevie her water bottle. Stevie took it from him gratefully, eyes focused on the mini chair routine the choreographer was teaching Twyla. Who was prancing around the piece of furniture gracefully. 

Even Alexis was watching her, pulling at her earlobes and shaking her head as she was focused on Twyla’s feet. 

Stevie shook her head. 

“And did you hear how she handled Mrs. Rose earlier?” Stevie asked in turn. 

Mrs. Rose had come into rehearsal, guns a-blazing. She pushed and pulled at the actors, critiques rolling off her tongue as people read their lines. It had gotten worse once they moved onto the moving exercises. And then she started pushing choreography and it was  _ their first official rehearsal.  _

But Twyla was all smiles, while everyone was sitting on the floor, guzzling water with their eyes focused on their watches. 

“She really stepped in once Alexis broke,” Patrick said and Stevie chuckled. 

They had been forced to do their newly learned choreography on their own in front of the class. Stevie had gone first and Mrs. Rose had waved her off, murmuring something about the stress of being the first one to go. Patrick was next, and she made a joke about two left feet. By the time Alexis went, Mrs. Rose was at the end of her own rope and she counted Alexis off, shouting out movements and counts that were in a non-traditional numerical order. 

Alexis had gotten so frustrated she stomped a foot and let out a loud growl.

“I don’t know what any of that means!” Alexis had shouted. Stevie turned to Patrick, in search of any escape from the moment. Twyla had stepped in, smiled wide as she asked if she could give it a shot, said that she still had some energy and she was itching to give it a try. 

“Alexis’ face was hilarious when Mrs. Rose instructed her to float over the chair like a butterfly,” Stevie said with a laugh and Patrick joined her, both of them back to breathing normal. “Reminded me of David and the toilet plungers.”

They chuckled harder but stopped once Mrs. Rose focused her blank gaze on them. 

Alexis came over, her fingers tangled in her hair. 

“Okay, she is really good and I am totally going to ask her for help later,” Alexis huffed and Stevie nodded. 

“I knew she could sing, but I didn’t know she could dance,” Stevie muttered under her breath. She shook her head as Twyla stopped moving and shook her shirt. Twyla smiled at the movement of air and Stevie furrowed her eyebrows at Twyla’s exposed skin. 

After rehearsal, Patrick and Stevie walked back to Cafe Tropical. They hadn’t made it far from town hall when Twyla caught up to them. 

“Today was fun!” Twyla exclaimed and Stevie and Patrick exchanged horrified glances. 

“Maybe for you,” Stevie scoffed and Twyla turned to look at her.

“It’ll be fun,” Twyla said in encouragement. “Today was only the first day.”

She had never felt so incompetent. 

And she failed math twice. 

Patrick just shook his head. “Hopefully I get comfortable soon because today was awful.”

“Could’ve been worse!” Twyla laughed and Stevie was thankful that they had reached the cafe. “I had a cousin once who worked as a cocktail waitress at one of those 50’s diners where the waitresses wear roller skates. On her first shift, someone spilled their drink and she slipped on it. Took out an eye.”

“Ew,” Stevie shook her head in disgust.

*

“Okay, Twyla has her script out. She has a highlighter in her hand and a notebook and pens,” David gestured towards where Twyla was standing behind the counter. 

Stevie had joined David at the cafe for a late dinner. Most of the town had already eaten, so the cafe was sleepy and quiet. 

“She’s a kit kat girl. You’re the lead. And I don’t think I’ve seen you holding or reading the script,” David raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Maybe I have it with me a lot and you just aren’t there to see it,” Stevie tilted her head at him. She made a mental note to actually read the entirety of the script that night. As Sally Bowles, she should probably read it more often than one of the background characters.

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” David said. He pushed the menu to the edge of the table. 

“I have looked at it.”

“More than once?” David asked and Stevie wanted to insult that smirk right off his face. 

Before she could open her mouth, Twyla was there, asking for their order and Stevie was beyond grateful. She wasn’t a good liar, she would admit it. Poker was never a strong suit and David wasn’t going to let it go until he got the answer he wanted. 

They ordered and Twyla collected the menus and left with a wink at Stevie. She took her place back at the counter after shouting the order back to George and turned to the next page on her script. 

“So, now that you, Alexis and Twyla are all in the musical, are you all going to become besties?” David winked at her and Stevie grimaced at the concentration evident on his face to turn the blink into a wink. 

Stevie just scoffed, taking a sip from her water. Where was Twyla when you needed her. 

“I’ve known Twyla for more years than I care to admit and we haven’t become friends this far. Don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Mhm, we’ll see,” David hummed. He raised his milkshake and tapped his glass against Stevie’s water, pinky up. 

*

Stevie was in the back office at the motel, rifling through file boxes of tax papers looking for a specific form from two years ago. A T4125? She had reached the back of the box, furrowed her brows and pushed all the papers back. She pulled out her phone to check what Mr. Rose had sent. 

“Fuck,” Stevie breathed. “T2125.”

She repeated the number as she flipped through each paper. A “hello!” sounded through the open door and Stevie paused. The voice repeated itself and Stevie pushed herself onto her feet, brushing the dust off of her jeans. 

Stevie stopped in the doorway at the sight of Twyla standing in the motel office. 

“Can I help you?” Stevie asked and she cursed herself for the abrasive tone.

“Hi Stevie!” Twyla exclaimed and Stevie eyed the contrast of her bright smile and horrified, almost manic eyes. “Do you by chance, possibly, hopefully have a room open on Friday? I have a cousin and her husband coming and they have a small toddler. My two bedroom home is a little small for the four of us. Kids need a lot of space.”

“I can check…” Stevie trailed off. She sat on the stool at the computer, closed the solitaire window she had left open and pulled up their booking system. “Nope. All booked up.”

“Oh,” Twyla nodded her head absentmindedly. “Okay. Thanks for checking!”

Twyla turned to walk out and Stevie felt kind of sorry for her. Family was rough.

“Would they be okay with a trashy room that has a mirror on the ceiling?” Stevie asked and  _ why.  _

“I think a child would find that fascinating,” Twyla perked back up and Stevie nodded. 

“Children are fascinated by the strangest things,” Stevie picked up a post it and scribbled a note about Friday night. “Which cousin is this?”

“Ashlynn. You’ve met her before,” Twyla laughed at the expression Stevie’s face morphed into. 

“Silicon?” Stevie asked as she gestured to her face. 

“That one,” Twyla confirmed. 

“Oh yeah, I’ll definitely help you with that one.”

Twyla reached out and placed a hand on Stevie’s. 

“Thank you. So much,” Twyla squeezed Stevie’s hand and let go quickly. “Let me know how much after they check out and I’ll take care of their bill.”

“Yeah,” Stevie coughed as she watched Twyla walk out. 

*

“Okay, why are we doing this?” David asked as he began to pack up some of his clothes. 

“Just need you to move your stuff out today so I can clean the room. Then Saturday night, you can move everything back in,” Stevie explained as she handed him a dry cleaning bag. 

“But, why though?” David persisted. 

Stevie turned away from David to strip the sheets off the bed. 

“Stevie?”

“I had a patron come in and basically beg me to find a room they could book this weekend,” Stevie said as she balled up the sheets and threw them at the cart. 

“Who would beg to be able to stay here?” David said as he eyed the room disdainfully. “I’ve seen all the rooms here. If they’re begging, I don’t think you want them here.”

“I seem to remember a family who begged to be able to stay here for a heavily discounted rate,” Stevie turned to look at him. “So this doesn’t really seem too far off.”

“Mkay,” David scrunched his nose at her. “This is really fun for me.”

“Twyla came in and asked if a room was available. She said she had family coming and that she didn’t have space. We’re completely booked, but I figured I could open up this room for one night,” Stevie shrugged. 

“So you’re being a good person?” David teased her. She snapped a pillow case at him. 

“She practically forced me. I felt bad,” Stevie threw the pillows into a pile by the bed so she could smooth clean sheets onto the mattress. “I wouldn’t want my family coming and staying with me.”

“You’re going soft.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Stevie grabbed the rags and bathroom cleaner and walked away from David’s continuous questions. 

*

Stevie was scrolling on her phone, her bag dumped next to the seat she was sitting in, one leg crossed underneath her, scowling as the hard plastic dug into her ankle. She had just chosen a new e-book, a mystery that she was hoping would keep her up at night, when she heard someone approaching her. She didn’t look up. If it was David, they’d have to move to a booth. It was past lunchtime and the last time she had a meal with him when he was ravenous had been a huge mistake and frankly, scary. 

“Hi, Stevie!” 

Stevie looked up to see Twyla, who was standing with a menu pressed against her chest. She had on the same smile as always and it kind of peeved Stevie less than usual. 

“Hey,” Stevie responded, her sentiment awkward and dreary compared to Twyla’s. She didn’t have the energy to fake an enthusiasm to match. Not that she would’ve. 

“No script today?” Twyla asked, her eyes never leaving Stevie’s. Eye contact made Stevie uncomfortable, but she didn’t look away. They were slowly becoming friends and Stevie found that she didn’t mind that. 

“Nope. Spending lunch with a new book,” Stevie said as she tapped the screen of her phone. “If I look at that script again today, I might have an aneurysm.”

“Yeah, I noticed Sally has a lot of lines,” That easy smile never left Twyla’s face and Stevie wondered how best to tell Twyla that, that wasn’t helpful. Not in the slightest. “So, do you need a menu or do you know what you want?”

“I’ll do the half BLT with fries on the side,” Stevie ordered as she turned her phone over in her hands. 

“Good choice. The ‘L’ and the ‘T’ today are from my aunt’s girlfriend’s step-brother’s garden and uses the good fertilizer, so you made a good choice,” Twyla winked at her and then she was gone as quickly as she came. Then Stevie was eating, time slowing down as she got sucked into her book. 

“I’m going on my break, do you need anything else?” Twyla was at her table again, rolling and unrolling a receipt in her hands. Stevie looked down, snapped out of her trance and noticed she was playing with her last fry. 

“Oh, no, I’m done,” Stevie pushed the plate away, wiping her fingertips on her napkin. 

Twyla placed the bill on Stevie’s table.

“Take your time. George will ring you out when you’re ready,” Twyla turned to walk away, but she turned back quickly. Her smile this time was friendly, which was different from her customer service smile, which was different from her comforting one. Not that Stevie understood why there was a difference; really, a smile was just a smile. It's not like she takes notice of things like that. 

“If you ever need help with memorizing lines, or want to practice some of the songs, I’m always here to help,” Twyla offered, nodding her head. Her copper curls bounced in a way that was much different than the way Stevie’s waves moved and she kind of wanted to touch them. 

“Oh, sure. Thanks,” Stevie responded, caught off guard by the fact that she wanted to touch Twyla’s hair. She got up as Twyla walked away and gathered her stuff quickly to leave. Wanting to touch a girls hair was something that needed to be worked through with wine in hand. She was still shaken by her thoughts after she paid and was walked out, the door to the cafe slammed shut behind her. 

She decided to stop at the Apothecary before she checked on the motel, taking the steps up quickly. As she reached for the door, it swung open. Twyla was laughing, yelling out a goodbye to Patrick, her hands full of products. Stevie caught the door, holding it open to let Twyla out. 

“Thanks, Stevie! Have a good night!” Twyla walked past, a breeze kicked up and her hair slapped Stevie in the face. There was a hint of something sweet and then it was gone. 

When she entered the store, Patrick was still chucking at whatever Twyla had said while David stepped out of the back, looking less than amused. 

“Is she gone?” David asked. 

“Yes she is and you do realize that you can be nice to her, right?” Patrick asked, leaning a hip against the counter. 

“I am nice! I just didn’t want to hear stories about a random family member that I have no interest in! Not today.” David defended as he crossed his arms. “Stevie, back me up.”

“Actually, I’ve never minded Twyla,” Stevie said as she sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the store. 

“You don’t mind Twyla?” David asked, his eyebrows raising comically high. Stevie shrugged. “You, Miss  _ ‘I hate everyone and my main language is sarcasm’ _ , don’t mind Twyla?”

Stevie shrugged again, trying to chase down the words. At her best, Stevie was halfway to eloquent. She wiggled in the chair, impressed with the craftsmanship. 

“I’ve known her for a really long time. She’s always been nice to me. I understand where she comes from and her stories are just her trying to fit in or be heard or take up space. Take ‘em with a grain of salt,” Stevie said, tilting her jaw up, feeling almost defensive. Patrick was smiling softly at her. David just looked between them, utterly confused. 

Stevie shook her head and hoped that they didn’t poke any farther, because she didn’t know what she would say to explain her defensive stance. David shook his head with her and turned to help a customer that had just walked in. Patrick kept smiling at her, even when she snapped a  _ ‘what’  _ at him. 

That night, Stevie was flipping through her script, quizzing herself on the scenes. She just couldn’t put them in the right order. She felt herself getting overwhelmed and slammed the script closed, pulling down her almost empty bottle of whiskey. Stevie picked up her phone, thumbing through her contacts, getting down to the bottom before realizing she had never gotten Twyla’s phone number. Not once in the 20+ years of knowing her. 

Stevie briefly considered asking Alexis for her number, but she didn’t feel like trying to answer 78 questions that she didn’t have the answers to, or fending off Alexis’ own offerings of help. Instead she just pulled up the movie on her laptop and fell asleep 30 minutes in. 

*

A week later, they were at rehearsal and Stevie was struggling. She lost her place every 10 minutes and couldn’t get her fingers to turn the pages quick enough. Blocking a scene had been an absolute nightmare and she couldn’t tell her stage right from her stage left. Patrick was having a better time, but not by much. He started off fine, but began to slip as Stevie’s energy began to claw into him. Mrs. Rose had given up on Alexis halfway in. 

The only person doing well was Twyla and even though she was doing the best, she was the only one who received Mrs. Rose’s wrath. 

If any step was partially off, Mrs. Rose was chiding Twyla. Even though she was the only one who could sing and walk at the same time, Mrs. Rose still felt the need to comment on her being slightly off key. No matter what good Twyla did, Mrs. Rose was determined to break her down. Everyone gave the two of them a wide berth and with five minutes left of the scheduled rehearsal time, even Twyla couldn’t keep a smile painted on her face, no matter how fake. 

When Mrs. Rose called the rehearsal, ten minutes later, Twyla was the first one out the door, her eyes red.

Patrick nudged her. He whispered, “Do we say something?”

“What do we say?” Stevie turned to him, her eyes wide. She couldn’t remember the last time she comforted anyone, besides David, and she had been forced to. She couldn’t remember the last time she had comforted anyone voluntarily. 

“I don’t know,” Patrick said. They stood in uncomfortable silence when Mrs. Rose reminded the two of them that they had dinner plans with the Rose family. It was only when Mrs. Rose was walking away did Patrick answer. 

“I hope Twyla has the night off because it’s going to be really awkward if she doesn’t.

Twyla did not have the whole night off. She was already bustling around the cafe, her ponytail swaying behind her, when they walked in. David and Mr. Rose were already sitting at one of the larger tables, the menus already placed in the middle. Stevie watched Twyla interact with the customers and noticed she went between the tables quickly, no jokes, stories or smiles. Mrs. Rose had done a number on her and had completely broken her. 

She only came to the table when everyone looked obviously ready to order and Mrs. Rose had already made a comment about the wait. 

“What can I get you guys?” Twyla asked, this time holding a pad and pen. 

Stevie caught Mr. Rose staring at Twyla as everyone placed their orders, a skeptical curve to his brows. 

“Twyla, is everything okay?” He asked slowly, as if he was waiting for an explosion. 

“Yeah!” She responded, the cheer in her voice obviously fake. So fake that Stevie watched Mr. Rose grow even more concerned. 

“Probably tired,” Slipped out of Stevie’s mouth before she could stop it. She scrambled to put the two words into an actual sentence. “She did really well at rehearsals. Probably just tired from blowing everyone out of the water.”

Stevie said it pointedly to Mrs. Rose, but directed a smile at Twyla, or what felt like a smile. She hoped that Twyla didn’t think she was being sarcastic, or creepy, or insincere. 

“Yeah, you did really great today,” Patrick agreed. His smile looked normal and Stevie made a mental note to ask him how to be and come across as genuine. 

“You did soooo good, Twy!” Alexis exclaimed, her hands coming up beneath her chin. “You looked like a cute lil bunny hopping around, doing your high kicks.”

“Thanks guys,” Twyla ducked her head, her cheeks rosy. She walked away before anyone could say anything else. 

“What just happened?” David asked, just as confused as his father. 

“Mom was, like, really mean to Twy at practice, so I think we’re all just trying to help her feel better because it was so bad that she like, cried after rehearsal,” Alexis filled him in, her fingers danced in the air as she spoke.

Patrick caught Stevie’s eye and she could tell that he also felt bad since it was everyone's incompetence that had pushed Mrs. Rose to that spot and Twyla was the one she took it out on. 

“She didn’t cry,” Mrs. Rose stated, cutting herself off as Twyla approached with a tray full of drinks. She dropped them off in record timing. 

“Mmm, yes, she did. I walked with her here and I saw actual tears streaming down her face. So,” Alexis said, taking a sip of her water. “Not sure what you’d call that, but I’d call it crying.”

Stevie excused herself from the table as Mrs. Rose began a winding story about a director she once had, ignoring the pointed looks Mrs. Rose gave her once she noticed Stevie rising. She walked up to the counter and waited for Twyla to walk back out of the kitchen. 

“Can I help you with anything?” Twyla asked as she walked up to where Stevie was standing. She pulled out a towel and began wiping at the counter.

“Yeah, actually,” Stevie started. She paused as she realized that she was about to openly ask for help. “Um, does your offer still stand? From when you offered to help me memorize lines? I could use your help. You’re really good.”

Stevie paused. “And I am really bad. And I’ve been trying.”

Twyla looked taken aback, her eyebrows raised. Stevie was concerned for a second that Twyla was going to laugh in her face and say that Stevie was beyond help, but then Twyla was smiling. 

“Of course!” Twyla responded and Stevie breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks,” Stevie said. “Tomorrow night? My place or yours?”

“Mine might be bigger?” Twyla offered. “I can push furniture out of the way so we have more space to dance.”

Stevie nodded, already kind of regretting focusing their hang out on  _ rehearsing,  _ but making friends during adulthood was hard and she said what she said. 

“Sounds good,” Stevie pushed herself off of the counter. “I’ll text you.”

Because Stevie now had her number. That was something that Twyla had given her. 

Twyla ducked her head, smiling softly. 

“Hey, you did really well today. It was really impressive,” Stevie said as she began to back away. 

“Thank you, Stevie.”

‘No problem,’ Stevie mouthed at her and Twyla turned around, but not before Stevie saw the wide smile on her face. 

The next night, Stevie knocked on Twyla’s front door, one hand gripping her script and a bottle of red wine. When Twyla pulled open the door, they just smiled at each other for a quiet second before Twyla stepped aside and Stevie moved past her. 

They spent a while working on the lines, and then a bit longer blocking out some scenes, Twyla slipping into the different roles that Stevie needed from her. At the end of the night, they shared the bottle of wine and talked about their favorite movies and school trips they took together. 

Twyla was tipsy and Stevie had sat down a little too close to her on the couch, they were already curled up facing each other and Twyla was so close. Stevie knocked her knee into Twyla’s. She stared at where their knees were touching, Stevie’s jeans against Twyla’s bare skin. 

“Thank you for tonight,” Stevie said. She had pledged to be more sincere, especially with Twyla, who had wormed her way into Stevie’s life. Their knees were touching and Stevie wanted to press her knee even harder against Twyla. She had a fleeting thought of putting her hand on top of Twyla’s and  _ what the fuck.  _

“Of course,” Twyla moved her hand and Stevie’s mouth ran dry as Twyla tapped Stevie’s thigh. “I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

“Thanks,” Stevie stuttered. 

_ What the fuck did that mean.  _

Stevie left soon after that, wobbly on her legs from too much wine and too much building desire.

*

“This is for you,” Twyla said as she placed something down on the counter in front of Stevie. 

Stevie looked up from her phone to see a glass of Zhampagne. At some point, Twyla had taken away her empty plate and Stevie hadn’t noticed.

“Why?” Stevie asked. She locked her phone as Twyla dropped a raisin into the glass. That hadn’t gotten less weird, but somehow, Stevie understood it. 

“You didn’t mess up once today, at rehearsal. You deserve a nice glass of Zhampagne,” Twyla smiled at her. That large, sweet smile that Stevie was learning to enjoy.  _ Wait, sweet? _

Twyla pushed the glass closer to Stevie and Stevie took it, wrapped her fingers around it, but before she could drink, she turned to look around the fairly empty cafe. 

“Have a glass with me? I can’t celebrate on my own,” Stevie was flirting. She knew she was. All this time being spent with Twyla had led to some internal conversations about sexuality and coming into it in her 30’s and did she  _ like  _ Twyla?

The answer was yes and Stevie was finally accepting that she did and she was flirting with her now. Because Stevie wanted to flirt with her. She wanted to make her blush again like Twyla had when Stevie had told her she looked nice the other day.

She watched Twyla look around. 

“Okay,” Twyla nodded. She got herself a glass and she held it up. 

Stevie clinked them together and took a long sip. 

Someone called out Twyla’s name and Stevie watched her walk away. They’d continue their celebration once the customers stopped stealing away Twyla’s attention. 

*

Stevie stopped by Rose Apothecary after picking up lunch from the cafe. She was running low on shampoo and coffee and red wine. And she could do with teasing David a bit. 

“Oh, look who hasn’t completely forgotten about me yet,” David called out at her when she opened the door. 

“Actually, I’m here for the toiletries,” Stevie countered and David grimaced. “Shampoo specifically.”

“But also a little for me?” David asked. He walked over to the shampoos and picked up her usual bottle. 

“I want to smell the other ones,” Stevie stopped him and she walked to him, joining him. He just stared at her as she sniffed the other two scents. The second one was the same one she had smelled on Twyla.

She contemplated purchasing that one, but that was too weird.  _ Right?  _

“That’s the one Jocelyn uses. Buys it in bulk. Which means Roland probably also uses it,” David commented and Stevie shut her eyes in disappointment. She sniffed it again and it was still  _ Twyla.  _

“Let her get whichever one she wants, David. Don’t ruin a perfectly good scent for her,” Patrick chimed in as he walked into the storefront. 

“I was just mentioning it! Don’t want her going around smelling like Roland,” David defended himself. 

“I mean, lots of other people use that scent,” Patrick reminded David and Stevie looked up, head snapping towards Patrick’s direction. He stared blankly back at her and she swore he knew. 

But how?

“Okay, that’s not important right now!” David waved a hand in the air, drawing Stevie’s attention away from Patrick. 

“What is important, David?” Stevie asked. She put down the bottle and grabbed her usual one out of David’s hands. She turned from him to browse the other bath products. 

“We were thinking about hosting a game night tomorrow night. And you are invited,” David grimaced and Stevie knew he had left something out. 

“Okay?” Stevie said. She waited a beat. Patrick cleared his throat. 

“And we would like you to invite a plus one,” David breathed out in a rush. 

Stevie stared at the frown on his face. 

“I can invite anyone?” Stevie countered.

“Yes,” David responded. He tapped a fingertip repeatedly on the nearest shampoo bottle. “Anyone you want.”

“I was thinking you could invite Twyla,” Patrick said from the register. 

Stevie turned to stare at him. 

“We’re all becoming friends. Spending lots of time together in Cabaret. Might be nice to spend time together outside of Cabaret,” Patrick suggested. “And not doing Cabaret stuff.”

He looked so fucking innocent, but Stevie knew he was fully aware of what he was doing. 

“And it’s okay that I invite Twyla?” Stevie asked as she turned back to David who just nodded, his head moved absentmindedly. “David?”

“Yes. Yep,” he grimaced. “Invite whoever you want. Even if they’re not an ideal games night participant.”

The thought of a game night with David, and a man who somehow knew about the crush she was harboring on a certain waitress, and the mentioned waitress, made Stevie want to pull her hair out. But the thought was also endlessly entertaining. 

“Okay,” Stevie nodded. “Actually, David, can you go grab me one of the good vintage bottles from the back?”

“Patrick is right there, but sure,” David walked around the tables and she waited until he disappeared into the stock room. 

“What the fuck?” Stevie whispered.

“What?” Patrick mouthed back. 

“Don’t ‘what’ me!” Stevie huffed in frustration. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about?” Patrick said as he lifted his chin at Stevie. Stevie just narrowed her eyes at him once she heard David making his way back to them.

*

Stevie was prepared for the night, she really was. She had hyphed herself up as she got ready. She gave herself a pep talk in the mirror as she ran a curling iron through her hair, emphasizing her natural wave. She had told herself she could do it as she put on her nice jeans and buttoned her flannel, leaving one more unbuttoned than her usual.

Stevie was prepared until she turned the corner, a few blocks away from Patrick’s apartment and ran into Twyla. 

“Oh,” Stevie gasped as a hand wrapped around her bicep. The touch was firm and kept her on her feet instead of tumbling down onto the ground, which was her original trajectory. 

“Hey Stevie,” Twyla giggled as she let go of Stevie. 

“Hi,” Stevie responded. She was not fucking ready for tonight. Not when Twyla had her hair down in her loose ringlets and was wearing a fucking sundress with spaghetti straps and her freckled shoulders were on display. 

“Shall we walk together?” Twyla asked, holding her arm out like a gentleman. 

“Yeah,” Stevie whispered. She placed her hair on the inside of Twyla’s elbow and let her lead the way. The sun was setting and it cast a warm glow on them and Stevie was fucked. 

Twyla was beautiful and Stevie was drowning in it. Twyla was like the sun during a warm spring day, where it kissed your skin with its warm rays, unlike the summer sun that scorched everything it touched. 

“Tonight is going to be fun,” Twyla said as they crossed a street. 

“I think you and I have different definitions of  _ fun, _ ” Stevie pouted. 

“I always have fun with you,” Twyla said. 

Stevie bit her lip at the comment. Every now and then Twyla would make comments like that, comments that were completely innocent, but if Stevie let her mind run free with them, Stevie could turn them into something deeper. Something that could trick Stevie into ruining their friendship. 

“Well, hanging out with me usually involves wine and wine is very fun,” Stevie retorted. 

Twyla stopped, which yanked Stevie to a stop, her hand still wrapped around Twyla’s arm. 

“Pretty sure it’s you,” Twyla said. She was all wide eyes and a soft pout on her lips. Stevie catalogued that comment. She would come back to it later, when she was home alone and ready to overthink it. 

“David’s going to be so mad if we arrive late,” Stevie said instead as she tugged on Twyla’s arm to get her moving. 

“Probably,” Twyla shrugged as she followed Stevie’s lead. 

They continued walking until they were at Patrick’s door. Twyla knocked once they reached it and David opened the door with a very fake grin. 

“So glad you two could finally make it. You’re a minute late and now we’re behind schedule,” His eyes snapped down to where Stevie’s hand was still on Twyla’s arm. She yanked it back with a glare at him. “Wonder what took you two so long?”

“Well we’re here now,” Stevie said as she pushed past him. “Where’s the alcohol?”

“Hey!” Patrick called out from the counter where he was mixing what looked like french onion dip. 

“Oooh snacks,” Stevie hummed as she picked up a chip and dipped it into the bowl Patrick was mixing. 

“Shoo,” Patrick waved a hand at her. 

Stevie dipped a second chip and picked up a beer from the counter, cracking it open with the bottle opener that was resting next to it. She turned around and Twyla’s eyes slipped down to the bottle.

“Where—” Stevie cut her off by handing the bottle to her. “Thanks.”

Stevie avoided David’s eyes as she turned back to the counter and opened a second one, this time it was for her. 

“I told David not to be a dick tonight, so he shouldn’t give you too much grief,” Patrick murmured softly. 

“What?” Stevie asked. 

“You know what,” Patrick said as he turned to face her. “I, for one, support whatever is happening with the two of you.”

Stevie rolled her eyes with a huff as she joined David and Twyla in the living room as they debated the merits of the different board games laid out for them to choose from. 

“Why don’t we play pandemic?” Stevie said as she sat in the chair by the bathroom. She put her beer down on the decorative stump. “Nothing tears friendships apart like having to strategize together.”

David just stared at her, horror evident on his face. 

“It could also be fun to play a game where we all win and not just one person,” Stevie continued. 

David’s mouth opened and before he could deliver a retort, Patrick stepped in, agreeing with Stevie and it was a beautiful moment to watch David narrow his eyes at Patrick and not her. 

They set up the game and when they finished their beers, Patrick opened a bottle of wine and poured them all generous helpings. 

“Oh, this is the good shit,” Stevie said as she accepted the glass. 

“What is it?” Twyla asked as she took her own. 

“It’s a vintage cab that we sell at the store,” David said as he pulled a card. 

Stevie watched as Twyla brought the glass up to her nose. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she inhaled, then she took a sip and Stevie drained half of her own glass at the small smile that spread across Twyla’s lips. 

“It is very delicious,” Twyla said. She took another sip and placed the glass on the table. 

Stevie finally turned back to the game, avoiding David and Patrick who were staring very pointedly at her. 

An hour later, a second bottle was drained and everyone was tipsy. Even David was relaxed and seemed to be enjoying himself. 

“Someone actually streaked across the stage at your graduation?” David asked, a hand covering his mouth as he laughed at the thought. “I thought that was only something that happened in movies.”

“Oh, Billy Eisen totally did it,” Twyla said. Stevie was laughing too hard at the memory to contribute anything. 

“Butt ass naked,” Stevie got out through wheezes. “The principal chased him out of the gym.”

“More wine?” Patrick asked as he got up.

“Maybe just a little bit,” Twyla said through dying giggles. 

Patrick opened another bottle.

“I can’t believe you guys only became friends because of Cabaret,” Patrick said as he poured. 

Stevie looked to Twyla who just shrugged her shoulders at her. 

“We just didn’t have overlapping circles,” Stevie said. She slid her cup closer to her, the glass scraped lightly against the wood. 

“So who were you friends with in high school, Twyla? I assume Stevie hung out with the burnouts,” David smirked. 

“Oh,” Twyla took a deep drink of her wine. “I mostly hung out in the library during my free time. I enjoyed helping the librarian.”

Stevie fixed David with a glare when he opened his mouth.  _ ‘No!’  _ She mouthed at him. 

“There’s something so satisfying about organizing and helping teachers with tasks,” Patrick said as he sat down. 

“There really is!” Twyla said, her smile back on her face. 

Stevie let out a sigh of relief. 

Later, after David had ushered them out, they walked part of the way home together. They stopped under a street light and Stevie couldn’t look away from Twyla’s lips. They were slightly stained from the wine and more than anything, Stevie wanted to kiss those lips, to taste the wine on them before she licked into Twyla’s mouth. 

“I told you tonight was going to be fun,” Twyla said. She had thrown her hair into a messy bun before they left, claiming the alcohol had made her a touch too warm. There was a flush over her cheeks and it was the best thing Stevie had ever seen. 

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” Stevie shrugged. 

Twyla looked down and when she looked back up, Stevie’s breath hitched at the soft look on her face. 

“Goodnight Stevie,” Twyla whispered. 

“Goodnight Twy,” Stevie said in response. 

“Text me when you get home so I know you made it,” Twyla said. 

Then Stevie was watching her walk away and something sad settled into her gut when she realized she may never be courageous enough to say something about how she was feeling. 

*

The rest of the rehearsals for Cabaret passed by in a flurry of stress and before Stevie knew it, it was opening night and she was late because David got engaged and she needed to pick up his engagement gift. 

Patrick had come to her two weeks before to ask for David’s hand in marriage and she was so,  _ so  _ happy for him. She had said yes, obviously. But now she was late for warm up, her mind still slightly frazzled from the rollercoaster of emotions during the day. 

She ditched her flannel over a chair before she joined her castmates, leaving David alone in the dressing room to fawn over the monogrammed towels she gave him. Twyla pulled her into their warm up circle, her grip warm on Stevie’s hand.

Stevie breathed through the warm up, taking deep breaths until she was settled. She squeezed Twyla’s hand which she was still holding onto. 

The warm up was too short for Stevie’s liking. Before she knew it, she was gripping a fake cigarette in her hand and the opening notes of  _ Willkommen  _ were playing over the speakers. She looked over at Twyla who was shimmying her shoulders to the music. 

She looked over, locked eyes with Stevie and gave her a wide smile. 

They were going to fucking  _ nail  _ it!

*

The show was amazing and Stevie felt drunk on the happiness she felt when they took their final bow. She had gotten dressed in a rush and joined everyone in walking over to the motel for their wrap party. 

She accepted glass after glass of champagne and compliment after compliment about her performance. She watched David get interrupted multiple times during his engagement speech. Then she watched as Mrs. Rose got the call that the movie she had gone to Bosnia to film had gotten shelved. 

Mrs. Rose dove head first into her closet and the Roses shuffled everyone out of the motel room. Stevie grabbed one of the unopened champagne bottles on her way out, catching up to Twyla who was already walking across the grass. 

“Twyla!” Stevie called out. 

Twyla turned around to face her, her eyebrow arched in question. 

“Come on!” Stevie grabbed her hand with her own free one and pulled her to the road.

She waited until the cars pulled out of the motel parking lot and drove down the street before she unscrewed the wire trap that caged in the cork. 

“Which direction?” Stevie asked as she held up the bottle, her thumb poised on the cork. 

“That way,” Twyla said, pointing in the direction of the motel that twinkled across the way. 

“Ready?” Stevie asked. Twyla laughed in response and Stevie popped the cork, flinging it into the night sky. The  _ pop  _ was loud in the still darkness.

Stevie brought the foaming drink up to her mouth and took a sip before she handed it to Twyla. They walked down the road as they passed the bottle back and forth and laughed over the show, over their stumbles and mixed up lines. 

“Would you do another musical?” Twyla asked. They were getting close to Stevie’s apartment. 

“I think so,” Stevie said as she stopped and tilted her face to look at the moon. “It was fun. I felt good.”

“You looked good up there,” Twyla said. She turned around to face Stevie as she walked backwards. “It was magical. It was like something in you snapped and you really stepped into yourself.”

Stevie stopped walking, the bottle cold in her hands. 

“I’m really proud,” Twyla reached for the bottle and Stevie handed it to her on autopilot.

“Thank you,” Stevie whispered. “You looked really good up there too.”

Twyla smiled at her before she looked down and shuffled the toe of her sneakers against the asphalt.

“You thought so?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” Stevie breathed out. “You looked perfect.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” Twyla smiled at her. 

This was it. Stevie could do it. She could say something, kiss her. Twyla  _ had  _ to have been flirting. It was too sincere, no one said those things to Stevie if they weren’t interested. It was a beautiful night after a show that impressed even Stevie. 

Twyla was glowing in the moonlight, so beautiful and Stevie was almost certain that Twyla felt the same way. Twyla was still wearing her show makeup, Stevie was too, but Twyla looked unbelievable, her eyes somehow wider with the eyeliner, lips exaggerated just a touch and completely kissable. 

Twyla was staring at her, but Stevie felt the courage trickle out of her with each second that passed by where she didn’t make a move. With one kiss, she could ruin everything that they had been building together, a friendship that she was so lucky to have. 

She needed it for one more night. Needed that stability to get through the rest of the week. And then some more when she needed a sane person to lean on once David started wedding planning. 

Stevie decided to wait a little bit longer before she took the leap. Just in case it ruined their entire friendship.

*

The rest of the Cabaret shows passed even faster than the first show did. The cast party was wild, the drinks flowed and Stevie played game after drunk party game. Halfway through the night, Twyla pulled her into a corner, a serious look on her face, and she told Stevie that she needed to say something. But just as quickly as Twyla whisked her away, Alexis was grabbing at them and they were pulled to the hot tub and more drinks were pushed into their hands. 

“What did you want to say?” Stevie asked, her voice raised so Twyla could hear her over the rush of the bubbling water. 

“Oh, it was nothing,” Twyla shook her head with a small smile. 

“Are you sure?” Stevie asked. 

“Yeah,” Twyla said. “Just wanted to say hi.”

“Okay,” Stevie nodded her head. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Stevie watched Twyla avoid her eyes and drink from her cup. She would ask her again later, when they weren’t surrounded by drunk townies. 

*

It had been a  _ fucking  _ week and Stevie was bone-tired. She had been putting more hours into the motel and it was starting to weigh on her. She wanted to go home and take a bath and then relax with a glass of wine and her vibrator.

Stevie locked the door of the motel office after a night of reading through tax papers. She had no clue when it came to the businessey paperwork side of running the motel, but she wanted to learn. Cabaret had flipped a switch in her, motivated her to amp up different parts of her life. It was like an electric shock that reminded her how capable she is. 

She began her walk home, choosing to walk down the gravel driveway instead of the shortcut across the lawn. She paused at the mouth of the driveway when she noticed headlights. She stepped back into the shadows, determined to let them pass without being noticed. But the car slowed, a window rolled down and her name was being called. 

_ Twyla? _

“Want a ride home?” Twyla asked and Stevie hesitated. “Come on, hop in!”

No. That was a bad idea. Being so close to Twyla. She would either sit on her hands and hurt from not doing anything, or she’d do something to ruin the friendship that had developed between them. Contrary to popular belief, she had learned something from her brief romantic stint with David. 

But of course she was getting in the car. Twyla was looking at her with those big brown eyes, wide smile and Stevie buckled her seatbelt before she even realized she had moved. 

“Leaving work late,” Twyla commented and Stevie nodded, shy once she remembered how she had rubbed herself off thinking about Twyla the night before. 

“I’m trying to figure out some of the more official parts of owning a motel,” Stevie explained. She fiddled with one of the straps of her bag. 

“Doesn’t Mr. Rose do that stuff?” Twyla asked. 

“Yeah, but I figured I should know that stuff too,” Stevie explained. “Where are you coming from so late?”

“A family dinner,” Twyla said and Stevie missed the smile that had dropped from Twyla’s face. 

“Oof,” Stevie could only imagine how that had gone. 

“Yeah, but I’m going home in one piece, so can’t complain too much,” Twyla commented and Stevie understood the feeling. She knew first hand how exhausting families like Twyla’s could be. She had her own. 

“Oh you can still complain,” Stevie said. “You can always complain.”

Twyla chuckled as she turned onto Stevie’s street. 

“Thank you, Stevie,” Twyla said as she reached over to pat Stevie’s thigh. 

She pulled the car into a spot in front of Stevie’s apartment. Stevie unbuckled her seatbelt, but before she could open the door, Twyla’s hand was back on Stevie’s thigh.

“Hey,” Twyla started. She shook her head before she continued. “Last week, at the cast party, I was going to tell you something, but Alexis interrupted.”

“Yeah,” Stevie whispered. 

“I just,” Twyla bit her lip as she furrowed her brow. She was staring at Stevie, her eyes focused and bright, but wide and a little scared. 

“Yeah?” Stevie prodded. 

Twyla looked out the front windshield, her hand still warm on Stevie’s thigh. 

“I just,” Twyla bit her lip. “I’m really proud of you.”

Oh. 

Stevie shook her head as the adrenaline drained from her veins. She thought… she was stupid to think that Twyla was going to tell her that she liked her. So fucking stupid. 

“Thank you, Twyla,” Stevie said. Twyla opened her mouth and Stevie knew she needed to say something, to finally just get her feelings off her chest, but Twyla looked sad and Stevie wasn’t going to nail the coffin shut tonight. 

Not when Twyla was looking at Stevie like that. 

“I should probably go inside,” Stevie said to break the silence that had settled in between them. 

“Okay,” Twyla whispered. 

“Goodnight, Twy,” Stevie said. 

“Goodnight.”

Stevie walked the path to her apartment. 

Soon. She was going to tell Twyla soon. Even if it completely ruined everything they had built together. 

*

“Are you performing tonight?” Stevie asked once Twyla was standing in front of her. Stevie didn’t usually attend the open mic nights and tonight she only planned on sticking around for Patrick’s opening song. But she knew she would stay the entire night if Twyla said she was performing. Stevie was fucked and she knew it and acknowledged it. 

“I’m not,” Twyla said as she wiped at the counter, the dish towel bunched up underneath her fingers. The dark red of her nails stood out against the beige of the towel. She stood out in the whole town of Schitt’s Creek, Stevie was starting to realize. 

“Why not? You love shit like that,” Stevie asked. She pushed her fork through her salad. Stevie knew just how much Twyla loved performing. The flush of excitement on her skin during Cabaret had seeped into Stevie’s mind and sometimes when she closed her eyes to fall asleep, her brain projected that image on her eyelids. 

“I don’t know, I just feel like watching and enjoying myself instead tonight,” Twyla smiled. It was her shy smile. Stevie knew that one. She saw it every time they hung out. It was always prevalent for the first five minutes, then again when they said goodbye. 

Stevie nodded, letting the silence settle. 

“Are you going?” Twyla asked her. 

“Yeah. At least just to watch Patrick’s opening number. Probably go home after,” Stevie said. There was a voice in the back of her mind that whispered  _ ‘are you ever going to do anything about this?’  _ The thought made her sad and she knew she needed to build up the courage to do something.

“Well, I’ll be there. The whole night. Watching everyone. If you stayed, you’d have someone to hang out with when David’s busy,” Twyla said. Stevie noted the hopeful smile, but she still felt a pang of sadness. She wanted to shake her, tell her that she liked her. And that she wasn’t second to someone, just there for when David ditched her. Twyla was the main attraction for Stevie. Had been for a while. 

“We can hang out. As long as we stand in the back and my drink is always full,” Stevie responded, tilting her chin up. 

“Great,” Twyla said, glancing at the clock behind herself. “I have another hour here and then we can head over?”

Stevie nodded, muttering a “that works” before craning her head to look into the pastry display. Twyla caught her looking and promptly went to the display, pulling out the double chocolate chip muffin Stevie loved. 

They spent the next hour chatting briefly whenever Twyla was at the counter. Stevie had told her about the guests she had checked in earlier that day. Twyla told her about how Mrs. Rose had showed up to the Jazzagal’s rehearsal drunk, going on about how her movie would’ve been released by now. Twyla made a comment about how it must suck to have your dreams crumble right in front of your eyes.

“I wonder what it’s like to have a big dream,” Twyla continued as she ducked her head, her large curls falling into her face. Stevie felt something clench around her heart, because she knew that feeling. How it just filled your soul with dread when you yearned to get out, but you didn’t know how, didn’t have an end destination to help catalyze the escape. “Not the little ones that you have as fleeting thoughts, but the big ones that kinda crush you when you realize they’re never going to happen.”

Stevie stared at her, her book closed around her finger. Twyla had sucked the emotions right out of Stevie, laid them out on the counter and said,  _ “I feel them too.” _

When Stevie and Twyla walked into Rose Apothecary, David raised an eyebrow at them, Stevie specifically. She ignored him, knowing that he would tease her about it tomorrow, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

They stopped by the refreshment table and Patrick was already on the stage, welcoming everyone as he tuned his guitar. 

“Want a drink?” Stevie asked. Twyla nodded, already sucked into the performance. 

Stevie walked up to the counter, letting herself behind it after taking one look at David. His glassy eyes were trained on Patrick and Stevie could see him gnawing at the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t going to help her, there was nothing that could tear him away from Patrick on stage. 

She contemplated how many drink tickets they would need, but she remembered the way Twyla had flushed at game night after a bottle of the nice Cab that she knows they keep in the back. Twyla had ended the night with lips that were stained and Stevie herself flushes at how badly she had wanted to press her fingertips into them. 

She rang herself up, dropping her cash into the til. She closed the drawer, looking up at the ‘ding’ and made eye contact with Twyla. Twyla smiled and Stevie made a note of the fact that it’s a genuine smile. She added it to the tally. Stevie was willing to spend the rest of her life making note of what kind of smile it is. 

Stevie opened the bottle, grabbing two plastic cups on her way to stand next to Twyla. Everyone was still too wrapped up in Patrick’s performance to notice her shimmy past them. She filled the two glasses, clinking them together as Patrick strummed his last chord. Then Patrick introduced Bob onto the stage for beat poetry and Stevie remembered why she never came to these things. 

“I can’t pretend to enjoy this again,” Twyla whispered, her head close to Stevie’s. “Bob ran this by me twice earlier. Followed me around the cafe when I tried to avoid him.” 

Stevie pressed her fingertips into Twyla’s elbow before wrapping her fingers around the joint. She whispered back, “C’mon. It’s nice outside.”

Twyla followed her out and Stevie could feel David watching them. She would need to mentally prepare herself for his questions, but that was for tomorrow. Tonight she was going to make a move. She had to. 

It was a nice night for early October and the added layer Stevie put on that morning was serving her well. Stevie led them across the street to the steps of the cafe. She contemplated where to sit, but Twyla plopped down onto the concrete steps. They finished their first glass and Stevie poured them a second with a heavy hand. 

“My mother has a half sister,” Twyla started, her fingers tapping the side of her glass. She shot Stevie a brief look and Stevie nodded to get her to continue. Stevie felt her insides ache at the insecurity in Twyla’s face. Fuck everyone in this town who made her feel bad for telling her stories. And that included Stevie. 

“She was really mean. She would always talk shit on my mom in front of me and my brother. Really awful stuff,” Twyla paused, taking a sip of the wine. “She used to always make comments about how she was better than us. Always tried to act fancy even though there was no difference between us and her. 

“She told my mom that she was better than us because at least she wasn’t a slut that got pregnant in high school. Things that you shouldn’t say to your sister. She always pretended to be classy. She always drank red wine instead of beer when she was with the family, trying to seem fancier than us. But she’d always get sloppy drunk and spill wine everywhere. So she was really just proving herself wrong,” Twyla laughed and Stevie just stared at her. The moonlight and outside lights from the Apothecary were casting an eerie glow over her face and Stevie marveled at how beautiful she looked. “Anyways, everytime I drink red wine I think of her.”

“Want me to get you something else?” Stevie asked as she began to stand up. Twyla grabbed her hand, stilling her. 

“No, it’s delicious,” Twyla said. “I don’t know why I brought up that story. Just felt like talking about it, I guess.”

They kept drinking, another glass each and then when Stevie poured out the rest of the bottle, she placed it on her other side, away from the danger of getting knocked over. They watched people leave and enter the shop. 

Stevie looked back at Twyla, her eyebrows raising at the small smile on Twyla’s lips. Her eyes are trained on Patrick’s car that’s parked outside of the shop. 

“What’s up?” Stevie asks and she’s almost scared of the answer. 

“Nothing, just thinking about how happy I feel right now. How comfortable I feel,” Twyla says, her smile growing bigger as she turns to face Stevie. Stevie can feel the missing ‘ _ with you’  _ that Twyla won’t voice out loud. But Stevie feels it too. “I wonder what my life would’ve been like if we actually became friends earlier.”

“Oh,” Stevie sighed. 

“Maybe I would’ve stopped caring about what other people think sooner, and would’ve been able to enjoy myself more.” Twyla nods, biting her bottom lip. “I don’t know, I feel free when I’m with you.”

Stevie wanted to tell her that she’s thankful for Twyla too, that she’s opened up Stevie’s life just as much as she’s claiming Stevie has for her. But she can’t say it. Not with how Twyla’s looking at her, with wide eyes, that smile on her lips and her hair glowing in the moonlight. 

Stevie can’t help but reach out and twirl a curl around her finger. The strands are silkier than she expected. Twyla’s eyes were on her, almost daring her to make the next move, so Stevie slid her hand into the roots of Twyla’s hair and pulled her into a kiss. It’s soft and better than Stevie was expecting. Stevie worked to ingrain it into her mind, to memorize the moment, because she actively wants Twyla and she can’t remember the last time she had a first kiss with someone where she actually, genuinely liked them. 

But this was Twyla and she  _ liked  _ her and wanted to make it count. A year down the line, she wants to remember how Twyla sighed into the kiss, relaxed into her and kissed her back so sweetly and much more gentle than anyone else ever had. 

Stevie felt fingers twisting into her flannel and then she was being pulled closer, pulled in a way that was so soft and gentle that it made Stevie break apart from Twyla, breathing heavy but she had to see the look on Twyla’s face. 

Twyla was staring at her with wide eyes, cheeks tinged pink and before Stevie could panic, Twyla was kissing her. Stevie wanted to get closer, pull Twyla into her lap, but then a bell rang in the distance and a large group of people began to mill out of Rose Apothecary and Twyla pulled away. She smiled bright and large. 

“Has anyone seen Stevie?!” A tipsy David called out and Stevie turned to see him poking his head out of the store, he turned in their direction and she knew she was caught. 

“I’m gonna get going,” Twyla said as she stood up. She picked up their empty cups and the wine bottle. “I had a really good time tonight.”

Stevie nodded as Twyla giggled. She placed the empty bottle under her armpit and touched her lips with her free fingers. “I’ll be thinking about that all night,”

“Me too,” Stevie said with no air in her lungs. She felt like she was drowning and she so desperately wanted to kiss Twyla again. 

“Call me when you get home?” Twyla asked, hopeful. Stevie could register that through the darkness. 

“Of course,” Stevie responded.

Twyla bent down, pressed a kiss to Stevie’s cheek and then she was walking away, empty bottle swinging down by her side.

Stevie took a second to collect herself, lips and cheek tingling, before she got up and walked back into the shop. David and Patrick were staring at her knowingly. Instead of saying anything, she picked up a garbage bag and silently began helping them clean up. 

When she got home, she quickly got ready for bed and tucked herself in before calling Twyla. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr [as samwhambam](https://samwhambam.tumblr.com/).


End file.
